


Start Spreadin’ the News

by jamesgatz1925



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: AU, AU: baseball player, Alternative Meeting, Fluff, Love, M/M, Song fic, Songfic, alternative career, intense use of baseball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 13:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14356233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesgatz1925/pseuds/jamesgatz1925
Summary: Sonny is a baseball player. Rafael loves him anyway.





	Start Spreadin’ the News

Rafael never liked sports.

Sports never got his blood pumping and heart racing. Words, arguments, opening and closing statements: those things did the trick. Bats, balls, hats: those were never an interest held by Rafael.

Rafael had dated the occasional sports fan. Sometimes there was a man who had a genuine interest in the topic, but most of the time it was more of a, ‘I’m going to the Knicks game to show off that I can afford court-side seats!’ situation. But genuine interest or not, it didn’t matter to Rafael.

Until he met Sonny Carisi, who not only loved baseball but wholeheartedly lived it.

Literally lived it.

Because Sonny, when Rafael met him in a bar one lonely evening, was a cute-as-a-button baseball player who barely mentioned his profession as he sweet-talked Rafael all night. It wasn’t until Rafael turned on the news four days after patiently awaiting Sonny’s first call that he heard the truth behind Sonny’s vagueness.

“ _The Yankees are flabbergasted by this call-up, Steve. A no-name kid from Staten Island gets the call and bats a thousand in his first six games. How does he do it?”_

 _“I don’t know, Carl, but I hope Carisi never loses his fire._ ”

Rafael had literally spit out his swig of coffee when an image of Carisi from the previous night’s Yankee game popped on screen. There he was, the sweet lanky man who Rafael had been waiting anxiously for, dressed in full white and blue pinstripes, smiling excitedly and accepting high-fives from fellow players.

Rafael was so shocked that he almost missed his phone when he grabbed for it. He opened Google and quickly searched, “Sonny Carisi.” And that was a first for Rafael, Googling a guy and not fearing a line of felonies strung to his name.

What shocked Rafael most of all was Sonny’s call that arrived the next morning. Rafael was in a cab on his way to the office when he answered in surprise.

After talking for a while, Rafael asked the inevitable question.

“Why didn’t you tell me, you know, who you are?”

Sonny chuckled. “Because you were the first person in days not to ask for my autograph.”

Rafael accepted that and continued talking to Sonny as he was. He continued waiting for Sonny’s call, waiting for dates, and waiting for Sonny.

Rafael was driven crazy by a lot about their relationship. First, Sonny’s ridiculous schedule. How many games did the Major League Baseball season need?

Second, the fans. Sonny called them passionate; Rafael called them annoying. They weren’t obnoxious, sure. Not like fans of a singer or actor are. But they often stopped Sonny on the street and insisted on talking to him as if he was an old neighborhood boy. When it was little kids looking at him like he was a god or little old ladies talking to him like a grandson, Rafael thought it was adorable. But when it was grown men who acted like they knew more about the sport than Sonny, who clearly knew everything there was to know about baseball, Rafael was beyond annoyed.

The last thing that drove Rafael crazy was just how quickly he fell in love with Sonny. Despite Sonny’s schedule and his unbelievable life, Rafael was head over heels in a flash. Anytime Sonny was playing in New York, he was at Rafael’s apartment in Manhattan. Rafael missed him terribly when he was gone. Rafael missed him so much that he followed the Yankee’s Instagram account, he gladly watched the games—or had it on for background noise while working—and he would actually attend a few. And not just because he could afford the expensive tickets.

To say Rafael became a passionate baseball fan would be an understatement. Never in his life had he cared about the outcomes of games, standings, or stats. When kids were running around the Bronx pretending to be Reggie Jackson, Rafael only knew enough to pretend to know who that was. But suddenly he was celebrating every win, comforting every loss, congratulating every home run, and deeply loving an outfielder who wore tight pants.

Eventually, they moved in together. It made more sense; Sonny’s apartment was half lived in and Rafael had half a bed empty. Then, Rafael was able to miss him a small fraction less because he woke up with Sonny, welcomed Sonny home after a long day, and had an apartment full of Sonny’s stuff.

It was all so fast and not fast enough, because Rafael felt like he’d been waiting his entire life for Sonny.

Rafael barely had a chance to breathe when, two years later, he found himself at Yankee Stadium, nervously watching Game 7 of the World Series. Sonny’s first World Series. The first World Series Rafael had ever cared about.

The game was tied at 2 going into the 7th. Rafael was shaking. He was less nervous when he opened up his Harvard acceptance letter. He was less nervous when he awaited the Bar Exam results. He was less nervous during tough cases.

But at Yankee Stadium during Game 7, his beloved out in left field playing it cool, Rafael was a mess. He was leaning forward on his knees, fingernails being gnawed between his teeth, and a group of laughing wives and girlfriends trying to distract him.

“Rafael, you’ve got to relax,” he heard over and over.

“How are you guys not complete messes?” Rafael asked them.

Someone’s wife held up a beer. Rafael just laughed and turned to the game again.

As much as Rafael wanted Sonny to be the hero, he thought he would’ve had a heart attack if it came to that. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Sonny got up to bat with a one-run cushion, which was supplied by an RBI a few batters ahead of Sonny.

Rafael still couldn’t breathe. He still whispered, “Come on, baby,” into his hands. He still hoped and prayed that Sonny did well. Of course, Rafael knew Sonny couldn’t make a run be taken away, but he was still a wreck.

The ninth came and all the Yankees needed were three outs. Three little outs. They had the best save pitcher on the mound, the best left fielder—if not the cutest—in the grass. Rafael tried to calm down, take deep breaths, but they would not come. His stomach felt like it was in his throat and his heart was beating rapidly.

With each pitch, Rafael wondered more and more how this became his life. How he became such a huge baseball fan. How he became the love of left field. He thought of whispered words snuggled deep on off days, muttered goodbye’s as Sonny boarded buses and planes, kisses and hugs and all the love that Rafael had felt. He thought of the acceptance from the team, the community. He thought of his babe’s face on the cover of magazines, on baseball card’s, little kids asking his love for his autograph and his honey meaning the world to half the population of New York, and then some.

Rafael was lost in thought before he noticed there were two outs.

“Holy shit,” he said. “When did we get two outs?”

The wife next to him laughed. “Strike out and a fly out. Are you okay?”

Rafael took a deep breath and nodded. He hoped the next batter wouldn’t kill him.

And god, each pitch took forever. Rafael thought he’d zone out again, but a crack of the bat woke him up fast.

The ball sailed up, up, up...then down, into the outfield, and Sonny was there, as he always is, to catch it easily. The entire stadium erupted as Sonny threw his arms in the air in celebration, then ran toward the rest of the team in the infield.

The wives were cheering, too. Rafael was just staring, shocked, trying not to lose Sonny in the sea of pinstripes.

Sonny was hugging his teammates, high-fiving everyone, as Rafael was being hugged and patted on the back, as if he’d done it. But hadn’t he, too? As Sonny was not only on a team of Yankees, but a team of Sonny and Rafael?

The wives, girlfriends, and Rafael were escorted towards the field as Frank Sinatra filled the stadium and passionate New Yorkers continued cheering. But Rafael heard none of that, saw no flurry of hands flying out to high-five the wives. He was focused solely on Sonny; on Sonny’s shining smile he could spot a mile away, Sonny slipping on the World Series Champions t-shirt over his dirtied uniform, Sonny wiping his eyes continuously.

Rafael knew he had tears. He knew how hard Sonny worked for it, worked his entire life for that exact moment. He knew Sonny played baseball day and night since he was a small kid running around his old Staten Island neighborhood. He knew Sonny’s sacrifices, his fears, and he knew none of that mattered now as he had his turn hoisting the World Series trophy over his head.

Finally, or only seconds later, Sonny ran to Rafael. Closer, Rafael could see his tears, feel his relief, and Rafael wanted to share them. His eyes began to water as Sonny quickly enveloped him in a hug.

“We did it,” Sonny said simply.

We being the Yankees.

We being Rafael and Sonny.

“You did it,” Rafael whispered back, because he never wanted Sonny to forget what he accomplished for it.

Frank Sinatra continued in the background.

Sonny pulled back and gently held Rafael’s face. Rafael stopped breathing so he could hear Sonny better. Everything else in the world fell away as Sonny’s blue eyes were trained on his.

“ _These little-town blues, are melting away..._ ”

“Rafi, I have more than loved these past two years with you—“

“ _I’m gonna make a brand new start of it, in old New York..._ ”

“You have been amazing. I can’t believe I found someone who has welcomed my lifestyle so much—“

“ _And if I can make it there..._ ”

“I never want to lose that, Raf—“

“ _I’m gonna make it..._ ”

“I never want to lose you—“

“ _Anywhere_...”

“So, Rafi—“

“ _It’s up to you..._ ”

“Will you marry me?”

“ _New York, New York._..”

“Please?”

Rafael’s heart was in his throat. He swallowed back tears as he pulled Sonny in for a kiss, as Sinatra belted the final ‘ _New York_ ’ and the entire crowd cheered. Whether it was for them, for the song, or for the team, Rafael didn’t care. All that mattered was Sonny’s lips against his, Sonny holding him tight, and Sonny’s tears of joy mixing with his on his cheek.

Sonny finally pulled away first. “You gotta say yes,” Sonny joked, grinning hugely.

“Yes,” Rafael choked out. “Yes, of course.”

Sonny’s smile grew impossibly larger. He pressed his sweaty forehead against Rafael’s.

“I love you so much,” Sonny said.

“I love you too,” Rafael replied. “More than you know.”

“I have an idea.”

Rafael chuckled.

With one more parting kiss, Sonny left to celebrate in the clubhouse with the team, and Rafael finally had a chance to breathe. His head was spinning, so much was happening. Sonny had just won the World Series and proposed in the span of about six minutes.

Rafael was overwhelmed. He staggered over to the nearest empty seat and lowered himself heavily. He looked around the stadium. People were still cheering. It was as though nobody had left their seat.

When his breathing regulated and his heart rate began to return to normal, Rafael finally noticed his phone buzzing intensely in his pocket. As expected, it was a million texts from everyone he knew, congratulating him on the World Series title. Sonny’s sisters and parents each texted, as they were not allowed to attend because they made Sonny nervous. And then Rafael noticed he had a few texts from the wives and girlfriends group, even though they were feet away from him. Confused, he opened up the texts and found similar photos in each: Sonny and himself in an embrace or a kiss just moments before, with an attached “Congratulations!” comment.

With a smile, Rafael rejoined the group. Everyone offered hugs, and Rafael gladly accepted them.

“So,” someone said, “Are you not getting a ring until April?”

“April?” Rafael asked.

“That’s when the guys will get their World Series rings!”

Rafael remembered the one Sonny had shown him the year before, and he grew excited at the thought of Sonny getting one.

“I had better get one!” Rafael joked. “After the heart attack I’ve been through tonight!”

The wives each laughed and agreed.

Rafael knew he was in for a long night of celebration, not only for the win but his engagement, and he knew he was in for a lifetime of heart attacks and excitement with his love, the World Series champion.

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE BASEBALL, OKAY?
> 
> Seriously, I’m sorry if you’re tired of me mentioning baseball. 
> 
> I’ve had this idea for a while, because of the song, so I decided to crank it out.
> 
> Song: Theme from New York, New York by Frank Sinatra.
> 
> (One of my favorite songs of all time).
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
